#111: The Spiral Staircase

 

The Spiral Staircase

Robert Siodmak
Initial release: February 6, 1946 (USA) 

images c/o Filmgrab

Boy, this one takes me back. I originally wrote this review way back in 2019; I was ignorant of a lot of things, most importantly the true value of mid-century cinema, especially the golden age of film noir. While Robert Siodmak is known for his film noirs, most especially the 1946 classic The Killers, he is nevertheless something of a minor name in the broader noir canon. But he had vision, and it's that vision that keeps him out of obscurity. I only wish I had realized it sooner, way back when I saw The Spiral Staircase.

The Spiral Staircase is kind of special for me. I had always sensed the obvious overlap between film noir and horror; both rely heavily on moody lighting, long shadows, a tense atmosphere, even moments of raw terror. When I was first putting together a list of stuff I wanted to watch or play or whatever, I  added Siodmak's proto-slasher specifically for its status as a proto-slasher. I didn't realize at the time that it would be something of a gateway for me in terms of film noirs.

The Spiral Staircase has a lot of elements that should be familiar to slasher fans. A serial killer is on the loose in small-town Vermont around the turn of the century (exactly when is unclear, but the mid-1910s seems likely.) As the film opens, he's already killed two disabled women, and soon claims a third. This isn't good news for Helen, our heroine, who so happens to be mute. She heads home from seeing a movie (it's supposed to be 1914's The Kiss, but it's actually D. W. Griffith's The Sands of Dee from 1912) just as a storm breaks out. Along the way it becomes clear the whole town is in an uproar over the latest murder, and everyone is concerned for Helen's safety, most of all her boss's bedridden, elderly stepmother, Mrs. Warren. That Mrs. Warren should be played by none other than silent film legend Ethel Barrymore lends credence to the idea that Helen's muteness is, at least in part, an homage to the silent era of film.

But there's also a question of agency: Helen, as a maid for the wealthy Professor Warren, is naturally on the job 24/7, with all that entails, but there's also the constant push and pull as various characters impose on her what they think is best for her. Her doctor boyfriend Parry resorts to outright cruelty in getting her to overcome the childhood shock that made her mute in the first place, and has been pushing hard for her to see specialists in Boston. Mrs. Warren is convinced that Helen's in immediate danger and must leave that very night. Everyone seems to want something from Helen, who has no real voice for herself, and in one dark scene, she envisions getting married to Dr. Parry yet being unable to say "I do." Her lack of voice betrays her lack of agency, and everyone's pledges to protect her seem patronizing.

This is a brilliant, gorgeously-realized film. It's the perfect mix of film noir with horror elements, with a slasher flick vibe long before the likes of Halloween or Friday the 13th, albeit with a fairly low body count. (This is the Hays Code era, after all.) There's also an element of the gothic to it — a young blonde being menaced by a sinister foe as she's trapped in a gorgeous, isolated manor house is classic gothic fodder. Really, this film has it all. Siodmak's cinematography is nothing short of a work of art. A good, brisk script keeps the film moving along smoothly, with a superb cast to play it, led most of all by the rapport between Ethyl Barrymore and Dorothy McGuire's Helen. A silent film star next to a lead actress whose character is mute makes for a really interesting dynamic. McGuire is as expressionate as you'd expect, or even more than that, capable of getting across her emotions without ever saying a word.

While The Spiral Staircase isn't frequently named on most peoples' "must-see" lists of film noirs, I think it says plenty for itself.

-june❤